


Exeunt

by mangocianamarch



Series: Le Livre de L'un par La Dame Marciana [16]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It, Unrequited Love, fem!Bilbo, gandalf brings news but his news isn't always great to hear, sorry fili i had to hurt you a lot for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangocianamarch/pseuds/mangocianamarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a fic plotbunny I was sent by an anon on Tumblr:</p>
<p>Bella marries Thorin, becoming his beloved queen. Fili's heart tightens when he learns that she is quickening with his uncle's child, and he tells himself it is disappointment that he will never be king. Not something deeper, more complicated -- treasonous. He leaves for a time, leaves as he wished to do before the wedding, and acts and Thorin's ambassador for a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exeunt

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got around to writing this fic, yessssssssssssssss. This is just part one of it, just the setup one-shot. The full prompt for THIS part is this:
>
>> AU! and Female!Bilbo. The Battle of the Five Armies never happens, and Bella marries Thorin, becoming his beloved queen. Fili's heart tightens when he learns that she is quickening with his uncle's child, and he tells himself it is disappointment that he will never be king. Not something deeper, more complicated -- treasonous. He leaves for a time, leaves as he wished to do before the wedding, and acts and Thorin's ambassador for a time.
> 
> There's more to the prompt, but I won't put up the rest of it here yet, as this is just the setup. I'll post the rest of the prompt for the main fic. I changed a few things from the prompt, just because it worked better for me. The Battle of Five Armies **  
>  _does_   
>  ** happen, in fact this one-shot starts at the end of it. There's also a lot of established/implied stuff that doesn't, in my opinion, really require a lot of backstory anyway. Here's hoping you guys enjoy this enough to want the main fic to happen. :D
> 
> As usual, I do not own anything, and I make no profit from any of this, other than emotionally, and usually only from the feedback.

“Fili! Fili!”

Fili swivels around, the rest of the world spinning to catch up with him (at least, that is how it feels), and before he can truly react, he finds himself with an armful of hobbit. Bella’s arms are wrapped around his neck, and she is weeping into his shoulder.

“You’re safe,” she sighs, clearly relieved, “You’re alive.”

“For the most part,” Fili laughs, wincing, “You’re pinning my bad arm.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Bella squeaks, hastily putting distance between herself and Fili, who gives his left arm, hung in a sling, a little bit of a shake to get the sting out, “Oh, I didn’t see, I was just so happy to see you.”

Her smile is absolutely radiant, and though her eyes shine with tears, they’ve never seemed prettier to Fili. He returns her grin easily. “It would take more than a few arrows to keep me down,” he tells her, “That, and there is much to be said about Elven magic.”

Still grinning, Bella seems about to reply when Gandalf finds them. “Bella Baggins,” he rumbles, sounding just as relieved as Bella had been to see Fili, “Alive, and whole. Do your wonders never cease?”

Bella lets out a chuckle, her hand finding its way into her pocket, where her fingers seem to fidget slightly. “I was able to hide,” she admits, “And I’m afraid there’s no more to my story than that, although I daresay I may have managed to take out a handful of orcs or goblins before doing so.”

“Bravery and courage are not always measured by how eager one is to fight,” Gandalf concurs, “But also in knowing when it is better to run or hide, and live another day. Well, I’m more than just a little pleased to see you, and I’m sure I shan’t be alone in that sentiment.”

Fili watches Bella’s face light up, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at Gandalf. “Thorin?” she asks, perhaps a tad more excited than she should be considering the circumstance of their last meeting, “He is alive?”

“Barely,” Gandalf sighs heavily, and Bella’s expression falls, “All who can have done all they can for him, and they are certain he will pull through, but he may need more time to recover than most. He has suffered many, many wounds, but yes, the King Under the Mountain survives. And he has been asking for you, Mistress Baggins, as he has been from the moment he regained consciousness. I promised him I would find you, but the choice to go to him is entirely up to you.”

As Fili watches, Bella’s mouth opens and closes a few times. She seems to be debating with herself, but the way she already has one foot forward tells Fili she is all too eager to see him. To his surprise, however, she turns to him first.

“He hurt me,” she reminds them all, her voice low, but not angry, “He called me names and threw me from a wall. He could have seriously injured me.”

Oh, how tempting it is to tell Bella not to return to Thorin. How tempting it is to entreat her stay with _him_ instead, because he would _never_ do that to her, even in the heat of anger, and Fili is never quick to anger. How tempting it is to ask her to help _him_ heal instead, and together they can leave and build a new life, whether here or in Esgaroth or back in the Shire.

But no, Fili cannot do that to Bella. He _will_ not.

“He was sick,” he tells her instead, “He fell prey to the disease that has plagued our family for generations. He was desperate and angry. Perhaps his mind has cleared, and he now regrets his words and actions.”

“And if he does,” Bella suggests, “Is there anything to ascertain that it will not happen again?”

Fili’s eyes flick up quickly to Gandalf for the answer he already guessed at. “I do not think so, Bella,” he replies truthfully, “But what I _do_ know is that he loves you, and Dwarves do not love easily or callously. Whatever you decide, he will feel it for the rest of his life.”

Bella is silent, and it looks to Fili as though she is searching his face. After what feels like five long eternities, she takes a deep, calming breath, and turns to Gandalf. “I wish to see him,” she says firmly, “There is much he and I need to talk about.”

“Yes, there is,” Gandalf agrees with a half-smile typical of him, “Come along then, young prince.”

Fili’s eyes widen as he casts his gaze to the Wizard. “Me?” he asks, “I do not --”

“Don’t you want to see your Uncle?” Bella asks him, “I’m sure he’ll be glad to know you and Kili are all right.”

He tries very, _very_ hard indeed to resist her, but it is easier said than done with that look on her face. He gives a stiff nod, and follows behind Gandalf, keeping his distance, trying to stay distracted. He does _not_ want to hear what Bella and Thorin have to say to each other. He thinks he already knows, after all, and much as a part of him is joyful at the thought of a reconciliation between his Uncle and their treasured Burglar, the selfishness in him is hoping – crying out, more like – for an argument, for Bella to refuse to forgive Thorin for his callousness and his insults and his manhandling of her, for her to turn away from Thorin and choose Fili instead.

But these thoughts are not unfamiliar to Fili, and they are no more ruinous than the day he first became aware of them. He purses his lips, as if even breathing could give voice to his thoughts now.

Fili enters Thorin’s tent first, and finds himself rooted to the spot once he has taken in the sight of him. Thorin lays in a cot, wounds and scratches and scars everywhere, one hand wrapped tightly in a bandage so that it cannot move. A long gash runs down the side of his face, scarring him across the eye, but both are open, and they are both looking right at him. He struggles to smile.

“You are alive,” he coughs, and it is only at the sound of his (weak) voice that Fili finds his feet again, “Thank Mahal. I was afraid I had seen the last of you and your brother when I lost you both on the field.”

“And I you,” Fili confesses, “I am happier than I can say to learn that you will recover with time to reclaim your throne and rule as you were meant to.”

Thorin waves him off with an unsteady hand. “That does not matter to me as much as it did before,” he tells Fili, “There are...I have _apologies_ I need to make...I said and did things --”

But Fili puts up a hand to stop him. “Save your words for one who deserves all of them,” he says. He turns to the opening of the tent, and lets Bella in. Like Fili before her, she freezes at the sight of him, but Thorin struggles to sit up, and Fili is quick to tell him to stay down.

“Bella,” Thorin croaks, and it is all Bella can handle. She sniffles and lets out a sob, and the steps she takes towards Thorin’s cot are wobbly. Fili stays only long enough to help her over to him, and then he takes his leave.

He is surprised to find Gandalf standing by the entrance to the tent. “We should give them their privacy,” he says to the Wizard.

“In a moment, prince,” Gandalf replies, “There is something they need to know, but they must be reconciled or at least have forgiven each other before they hear it. And yes, you need to hear it too, although I do not intend to do any more harm to your heart.”

“How do you --”

“I am a Wizard, young Master Fili. I know many things without having to ask.”

“And what kind of news is this that whatever beatings of my heart should be so concerned?”

“The good kind of news, or the bad kind of news, depending on where you stand, of course.”

“You make less and less sense, Gandalf.”

“Not the first time I have been told that, I assure you.”

A few minutes pass in relative silence before Bella walks out of the tent, smiling although teary.

“Fili, will you do us a favor?” she asks, rather weakly.

“Of course,” Fili answers quickly.

“Find Thorin’s cousin Dain,” she tells him, taking his good hand in both of her own, “Tell him to spread the good news to all Kingdoms – Thorin Oakenshield shall ascend to the throne of Erebor and take his rightful place as King Under the Mountain, and he takes with him his bride, Bella Baggins of the Shire.”

Fili feels an ice shard go through him. He might as well have died in battle. Anything would be better than _this_.

“And while you’re at it,” Gandalf adds, “Let him know as well that Thorin does not only take a bride with him to the throne, but also an heir.”

Fili is frozen. He is not sure he is breathing. He feels numb, and thinks he has gone deaf but for the ringing of this last bit of news from Gandalf in his ear.

Bella is likewise rooted to where she stands, but a stunned smile is spreading across her face. “Gandalf,” she says breathlessly, “Do you mean...I...Am I...”

“Yes, my dear Bella,” Gandalf laughs, “I cannot tell how far along you are, but yes, you are with child.”

Bella dissolves into a bout of joyful crying, her knees buckling and making her collapse into Gandalf’s arms. She stammers in disbelief, and for a few seconds spins on the spot, as if unsure where to go. Finally, her tearful gaze lands on Fili.

“Congratulations,” Fili offers, swallowing thickly, “You’re going to be a wonderful mother. I shall go do as tasked by my King and Queen.”

He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead before he heads off, completely distracted by the pounding in his head. He cannot quite hear Bella calling after him. Even if he could, he would very likely not find the strength to return to her.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Fili keeps his gaze trained on Thorin, sure that even an inch in Bella’s direction will wreck his nerve.

“We would much rather have you here,” Thorin says, “You do know this, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Fili answers, hands balled into fists at his side to keep his focus, “But with you still recovering and the Mountain still in need of repairs, I am certain I will do more good elsewhere, representing you and your authority where needed. Esgaroth needs rebuilding, and we can use all the help we can get from King Thranduil and his people. The borders will need patrolling as well, and for that we need recruits.”

“You would take guards meant for the treasury to guard the lands instead?” Thorin asks, and there is an edge to his tone that Fili does not like, but chooses to say nothing about for now.

“No, I would find others willing to stand guard and fight, should it come to that,” Fili answers, “I will look to Bard to spare some men, but we will need more.”

Thorin sighs, looking to Bella. She stands beside him in the same blue that he wears. She wears braids in her thick, dust-blonde hair with clasps made from gold, molded by Thorin himself for their wedding days ago. She looks beautiful. She looks regal. She looks more unattainable now than she ever has before. Fili forces his eyes away.

“If I agree to this,” booms Thorin’s voice, “It will take you from us for at least a full year.”

“...I know,” Fili answers. Beside him, Kili casts him a sidelong glance. He gives as surreptitious a nod as possible to let him know that Kili has guessed correctly; this is exactly why Fili is insisting.

“Well, if you are certain...” Thorin sighs heavily, “I cannot deny that this is a mature, sensible decision to make, and I know in my heart that you will represent us and our authority to the best of your abilities. We will give our blessing on the full understanding that you have are to stand for us in all but negotiations regarding the treasure of Erebor. Do you agree to this?”

Fili makes the mistake of letting his gaze flick to Bella again, and she looks disappointed. He tries not to read more into the expression than there is. He turns to Thorin again and nods firmly.

“Then go in our stead, Fili, son of Vili,” Thorin declares, “And may the gods rain only favor upon you and your mission. We shall look forward to your return to the Mountain, and to the family.”

Fili gives a final bow, turns on his heel and walks out of the throne room, Kili following beside him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kili asks him as soon as they are out of the throne room and headed to Fili’s quarters to gather his things, “You’ll be gone for _ages_. By the time you get back, Bella would’ve given birth, and the Mountain will be more or less restored.”

“I know,” Fili answers.

“...You noticed it, didn’t you?” inquires Kili, surreptitiously looking around to ensure that no one is eavesdropping, “The way he talked about the treasury and the finances and the gold.”

“I heard, Kili,” replies Fili, “But we were never sure that he was in the clear. Let’s just pray it won’t be as we fear.”

“Where will you go?”

“...I don’t know. To Dale first, I think. To Bard.”

“You know you won’t be able to stay away for very long. We’ll miss you, and you’ll miss us.”

“I think I’ll manage. Besides, you and I have spent far too much time together. All your life, if I’m not mistaken.”

“...You know I did not mean me.”

Fili lets out a heavy breath. “If I stay, my heart will shatter beyond repair,” he confides, “I love her, and she does not know, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“But what harm could it do? She is married to Uncle now.”

“They are both better off not knowing. The distance will help me deal with my pain, and when I return, I will be of much more use to them both than I am now. No, Kili, not another word about this.”

A knock steals both their attentions, and Fili’s heart sinks and rises to his throat at the same time to see Bella standing in his doorway. Kili gives him a pointed look before taking his leave.

“I was hoping to catch you before you’d gone,” Bella says, approaching slowly, her bare hobbit feet quiet on the stone ground, “I wanted to give you a proper goodbye.”

Fili clears his throat. “It is enough to know I have your support, my Lady,” he says, shoving two more knives into their scabbards on his person.

“Oh, none of this ‘my Lady’ business,” Bella laughs, “It is hard to get used to, hearing it from strangers, even more so from you. But I wanted to give you something before you left.” She dips into the front of her bodice and pulls out a small off-white pendant, untying the knot of the string its on behind her neck and presenting it to Fili.

“It was my mother’s,” she says, putting the pendant in Fili’s palm, “Made from the bark of the tree that grew on top of Bag End. My father made it for her, because she liked to go on walks and little adventures of her own. Not very far, mind you, but it was enough to bring back stories about. My father said it was to protect her and remind her of home. She passed it on to me during the Fell Winter, and I’ve kept it since. I thought you might like to have it, to keep you safe and to remind you where you really belong.”

The pendant is small and rectangular, painted and carved, with a hole punched through the top for the string to go through. It sits in Fili’s hand looking even smaller than it did in Bella’s hand, which is now cradling the back of his own as it carries the little gift.

“I can’t accept this, Bella,” he says, “You should keep it, to give to your child when he or she arrives.”

Bella gives him a small smile. “Something tells me you might need it more,” she grins, “I will be here with my baby, but you will be out there without your family. Think of it as a part of me that watches over you and thinks of you still.”

Oh, that those words meant what Fili wishes they meant. He looks down at the pendant, closes his fist around it gently, and looks back up at her. Her sweet smile breaks down his reserve.

“I will treasure it then,” Fili promises, “For as long as it is mine to own. Thank you.”

“Safe journeys, prince.” Bella presses close to him, rises onto her toes and plants the gentlest, softest kiss on his cheek. “Come home to us.”

It is a request, and it grips at Fili’s heart and threatens to make him do something very rash. He takes a calming breath and steps back.

“The gods bless and keep you, my Queen,” he prays, and before she can say anything more, he walks away from her, his hand falling from hers, the pendant still clutched in his closed palm.

 

 

 


End file.
